Notwithstanding its menacing and defensive aspect, the aloe that I took as a small bud more than ten years ago coming back from Ischia island has grown silently and peacefully in a corner of my balcony despite the heat of the dry summers and the ice of the long winter seasons. It's the only plant that doesn't suffer our absence. Moving the forefinger on the edges and false thorns of its surface provides a unique and pleasant tactile sensation. It's green nuances are so vivid that it nearly looks like it was made of plastic or a marzipan cake that are traditionally made in Sicily.
I have been tempted several times to move it into a new and nicer vase and put it somewhere else, in the lading of our apartment or directly in our living room. I haven't done it as I'm sure it would not love the change and would die in short time. For a wild plant as the aloe there's nothing comparable to open air and to the company of several others green species, starting from the moss that grew into its vase.
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